Occasionally she broke. One evening he'd found her in her chair, watching the sun set over the Osmose Plain. As the blues had faded to reds, gold, purples…she'd turned to him with a soft, sad expression, eyes shining, and had murmured softly that it was beautiful.
He'd been inclined to agree but had stayed silent. When she turned back to watch the sky he'd crossed the bridge and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders, fingers warm against her neck. She'd sighed at his touch and, neither saying a word, they'd watched the sunset together.
Nothing needed to be said.